


Everclear.

by SiriusBlacksCellMate (OhLovelyRose)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alcohol, Cheating, George is done, Give you what you like -Avril Lavigne, Infidelity, M/M, Maria cheated, Oral, Rim-Job, THIS IS A SONGFIC IM SO SORRY, dub-con, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 19:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhLovelyRose/pseuds/SiriusBlacksCellMate
Summary: He needed to forget. And the body pressing against his back seemed like the best drug that could wipe all the tears and the years away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is the first fic I've written in over a year!
> 
> Tfw its nothing but angst and gay sex.
> 
> Whoops. Sorry God.
> 
> The Maria/George pairing is because my roleplaying group ships it for some godforsaken reason lmao.
> 
> Have fun!
> 
> For Jess

**Give You What You Like**

**A Shitty Songfic By Rouen**  


_Please wrap your drunken arms around me_

_And I'll let you call me yours tonight.._  

"Fine! Just go! Go back to him! You deserve each other you little whore!" Washington screamed as the door slammed behind what he knew was the love of his life.

But not tonight.

She'd cheated. Again.

And with _Alexander_ of all people.

The lamp smashed against the wall across the room. Then went the vase. Anything he could picked up was thrown as he screamed.

"Nine years! _Nine fucking years_!" Nine years he wasted his life giving his heart to her!

_'Cause slightly broken's just what I need_

_And if you give me what I want_

_Then I'll give you what you like_

He grabbed his jacket and walked out the door. He needed a drink. Or ten.

He arrived at the club at half past midnight on a Friday. Pounding music, some shitty remix of some shitty pop song.

He went to the bar, and his order was short and simple. Shots of everclear.

He didn't want to think tonight. He didn't want to remember tonight.

He had walked in on them. In the middle. He was at work, teaching sports medicine at the local high school. Today was a half day though, and he was hoping to surprise Maria. Flowers, dinner, a movie.

Look at how well that had ended up.

_Please tell me I'm your one and only_

_Or lie, and say at least tonight_

After three shots of the scentless, but literally illegal in most states, alcohol, Washington made his way onto the crowded, packed dance floor. The bodies pressing against him felt welcome. Smothering. Like they could snuff out the flame he bore for her.

He felt a body press against his back, and it was firm. He turned around, and was staring straight into deep, earth brown eyes.

He was lost, immediately.

Maybe it was the potent alcohol in his blood. Maybe it was how much he was hurting. But also, maybe it was the smooth skin and unruly curly hair. The full lips that begged to be kissed.

He took the unnamed man's hands and put them on his body, and he met no resistance.

_I've got a brand new cure for lonely_

_And if you give me what I want_

_Then I'll give you what you like_

The lights were dim, but flashing erratically, the club smelt of sex, weed, and alcohol. An aphrodisiac no one could resist. Not when they felt the way Washington did.

They danced, and ground on each other for who knows how long, when Washington felt that liquid courage kick in.

 

_Come home with me._

 

It's as if someone else was speaking through Washington's lips. But he agreed with the person controlling his body.

The other man nodded, his lips trailing across Washington's' jaw, before tugging on the man's hand, weaving and slipping between bodies, before they found themselves outside.

_When you turn off the lights_

_I get stars in my eyes_  


It's quiet uptown.

They were walking in silence, the cool air of the night sobering them up, if only a little.

Washington lived just a block down, in a red townhouse, surrounded by others. As he reached the door and pulled his keys out, he felt the other man press against his back. He felt lips on his neck, and he instinctively tilted his head to the other side, a soft moan of approval as the other man gripped his hips tightly, pressing the outline of his erection against George's ass.

"Thomas.... 'nd you? I'd like to know who's tight little ass I'll be ruinin' tonight." He whispered, and George finally got the door open. Pushing against it, it gives.

"George." Was all he said, before pulling Thomas in and slamming the door shut with the other's body.

Their first kiss was hot and hungry. It tasted of alcohol and desperation, on George's part.

They pulled apart, and in the dim light of the moon shining through the window, Jefferson caught sight of the living room. The utter chaos.

He saw the picture of George and Maria on their wedding day.

_Is this love?_

_Maybe someday_

_So don't turn on the lights_

_I'll give you what you like_

He let George drag him upstairs, and when George sat down on the bed, let his legs spread, and his smile seemed to say "Stay,"  as Thomas stripped his own shirt off.

George's smile was obviously hiding something. Fear. Betrayal.

That living room was a sign of a scorned man.

"If you're lookin' for someone t' tell you not t' do this, it's not me, George." He said, standing a few feet from the bed and slowly walking over as he unbuckled the expensive, leather belt around his hips.

"I'll take no for an answer, but 'm not gonna say no to you." He continues, and George swallows thickly.

The man let his pants drop, and he stood there in tight, black boxer briefs. The moonlight highlighted the thick, throbbing erection they contained.

George glanced behind Thomas. At the wall.

At his honeymoon pictures.

He felt his anger rise again, and he practically tore his shirt off as he stood up, capturing Thomas' lips in a hungry, lust filled kiss.  


_Emotions aren't that hard to borrow_

_When love's the word you've never learned_

Thomas pushed George back down onto the bed, biting the man's' lower lip, nipping so hard he drew blood.

Neither of them cared.

Pulling the other man atop himself, George tasted copper and iron in his mouth, and he brought one hand to soft, pullable curls, and the other, nails digging into the soft, firm muscle of Thomas' shoulders. Hips lifting, allowing Thomas to remove his pants and boxers in one smooth tug.

Thomas' hands were greedy. Touching everywhere he could, groping, kneading, pinching. Caressing.

The taste of alcohol had faded long ago in their intense kisses, but the effects were still there. Just... Enhancing everything. Every touch ten times....More.  
  


_And in a room of empty bottles_

_If you don't give me what I want_

_Then you'll get what you deserve_  


_Bedside table. Drawer._

Georges' desperate moans were appraised by a rough, sucking kiss where his shoulder met his throat. His back arched and he let out a surprised, erotic moan.

Thomas looked up and smirked, chuckling quietly, leaning over and searching through the drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube, and a condom.

 _ I'm clean. _ He moaned, desperate for Thomas's touch once more.

_It's so she...wouldn't get pregnant. Just - Please- Touch me. Please, Thomas._

Washington was pleading, and who was Thomas to deny him? He looked at the man underneath him, and he stood up, leaving George practically whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Shh, I know, I know. Turn around. Hands and knees.” Thomas’ order was direct, and clear, and Washington obeyed almost immediately, rolling over and lifting his ass into the air, practically presenting himself to the man.

  
The feeling of hands on his ass, gripping and spreading, wasn’t new, but it was a memory of long ago, before he had fallen for a whore.  
  
Hah. Look who’s the whore now.  


_When you turn off the lights_

_I get stars in my eyes_

_Is this love?_

_Maybe someday_

 

The feeling of a mouth biting one side of his ass was new, though, and he let out a surprised gasp, that quickly turned into a groan of utter delight as a thick, wet tongue pressed against his entrance.  
  
His upper body relaxed against the bed, his ass sticking up, and he gripped the sheets as the man poked and prodded, and Washington did his best to relax the rest of the way.  
  
And when he did, he immediately clenched up again in surprise as the tongue, along with a finger slid inside of his body.

Thomas prepped George, the man impossibly tight as he made his way up to four fingers sliding in and out of the man.  
  
Washington was already a panting and moaning mess, and he caved.  
  
_Please, please fuck me oh god… Please fucking ruin me, Thomas. Please!_

 

He begged, pleaded, really, and Thomas couldn’t say no. He stood up, pulling his underwear down and off, grabbing the bottle of lube and applying a generous amount to his cock. He gave himself a few strong, firm strokes, before pressing against Georges’ slightly gaping, waiting hole.

_I've got the scene in my head_

_I'm not sure how it ends_

_Is it love?_

_Maybe one day_

The tip slid in, accompanied by unanimous, unison moans from the both of them.

“God fucking…. Yes!” Thomas pants, gently thrusting back and forth, trying to make the transition from fingers to cock easier on the man underneath him.  
  
Georges’ hands are gripping the bedsheets with a terrifying strength. The stretch burned. It wasn’t unbearable, but it hurt. His teeth were digging into his lower lip. And a hand gripping his shoulder brought him back to the ground.  
  
After a minute or so, the burn was replaced by a sudden, shocking pleasure as Thomas seated himself directly to the hilt in one smooth motion.  
  
“Sorry, George, but your ass is too good to play nice.” Thomas groaned apologetically, and the other man just moaned in response.  
  
George moved his hip, grinding back, and Thomas’ hand came down on a cheek, the slap sounding through the room, an echo of desire.  
  
Arching his back, a silent cry struggled to escape his throat as Thomas started to pound into him, gripping his hips and ass painfully.

 

_So don't turn on the lights_

_I'll give you what you like_

_Give you what you like_

 

A hand went around George's throat as he was hauled up. The hand gripped right under his jaw.  
  
“A little whore, is what you are, George. A little cockslut. Begging for me like this.” Thomas whispered in his ear, and George nodded quickly.  
  
_Y-Yes, Sir._ He wavered, his voice catching in his throat as Thomas thrusts up and into him roughly, slamming against, then dragging across his prostate.

 

_Please! Please oh god again, please!_

 

He practically screamed, and Thomas smirked, shoving George back down, pressing his face against the bed, a hand against the back of his head as he continued pounding and dragging across that spot that caused George to see stars.  
  
_Please! Please - I’m so close, I’m so close!_ His cheek pressed against the sheets he used to share with his wife, begging for another man to fuck- and cum in- his ass.

 

“Shh shh shh, baby boy.” Thomas’ voice was strained, as he continued to thrust. He was close too, and he was holding back.  
  
_Cum inside me! Fuck me you piece of shit!_ George screamed, and Thomas couldn’t even smirk at the warped begging.  
  
They reached their climaxes not in unison, but together nonetheless.  
  
George, his body shuddering and shaking as he came, his red, angry cock untouched and weeping, before shooting across his sheets and chest, the feeling of euphoria washing over him as he pressed his face into his sheets and gasped and pleaded.  
  
Thomas soon after, his thrusts slowing down as he helped his new lover ride his orgasmic bliss through. What he wasn’t expecting, was his orgasm crashing over him, himself when George clenched around him unexpectedly. His cum flowed into the other man, and Thomas grunted, nails digging into the velvety, yet firm muscle of Washington’s hips.  


_I'll give you one last chance to hold me_

_If you give me one last cigarette_

 

The feeling of white-hot cum shooting into him was too much for his poor, oversensitized hole, and he came a second time, stilling in almost paralyzed fear as the pure utter ecstasy filled him.  
  
Thomas pulled out, and watched as his very essence slipped out of George.  
  
He turned to the side, and saw a joined bathroom. He walked over, and when he came back with a soft, damp washcloth, George hadn’t moved.  
  
He gently cleaned the both of them, gritting his teeth at the debauched moans that escaped Washington when doing so.  
  
Thomas layed next to George, and the other man immediately moved over, wrapping his arms around the other man, and laying his cheek on the other’s chest.  
  
They fell asleep then, around five A.M. The sun starting to rise.  
  


 

_By now it's early in the morning_

**_Now that I gave you what you want_ **

**_All I want is to forget_ **

The betrayed, hurt scream cut through the still, morning air.  
  
Jefferson shot up, along with George, only to meet the livid, destroyed face of the wife.  
  
“It’s over, Maria.” Was all George said.  
  
She gaped like a fish, staring at him in shock. She stared, blinking. Crocodile tears at the ready.  
  
“It’s over.” He sounded so defeated, but…. Accepting. Like a general who knew they had lost the war, but they put up a good fight.  
  
“You can come pick up your stuff later.”  
  
Maria left without another word, doors slamming, and screaming tires heard outside.  
  
George flopped back, rubbing his face in his hands in exasperation.  
  
He lay there as he felt Thomas get up. Heard him get dressed. Leave.  
  
When he finally got up, some hours later, he groggily made his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge, before he saw a piece of cardstock taped to it.  


The front read:  
“Thomas Jefferson, Attorney At Law. XXX-XXX-XXXX”  
  
He flipped it over, and scrawled in neat, cursive handwriting:  
  
“Call me. Seriously. Not just for legalities, either. XXX-XXXX”  
  
George bit his lower lip, though that couldn’t hide the huge grin that spread across his face.

_When you turn off the lights_

_I get stars in my eyes_

_Is this love?_

_Maybe someday_

_I've got the scene in my head_

_I'm not sure how it ends_

_Is it love?_

_Maybe one day_

_So don't turn on the lights_

_I'll give you what you like_

_Give you what you like_

 

_What you like_

**Author's Note:**

> Pray for me.


End file.
